A friend calls: “Wanna have lunch at my work?” Me: “Are you mad? You know how hard I research these places to find the really great but inexpensive French meals while I’m in Paris. No way! Jeez.”
Big mistake.
I used to think that anything but a restaurant meal was to be avoided at all cost, especially in Paris. Oh yah, I remember being fed pretty well at some brokerage firms and the New York Times in New York, or men’s clubs in London, but the idea of sitting down in Paris in a company dining room was not my idea of haute cuisine.
Then a friend invited me to “Soc Gen,” Société Générale, for lunch. I schlepped out to La Defense, murmuring under my breath and sat down, pre-occupied with our conversation and the big-shots around us. After a few bites, however, I found myself muttering “This is pretty good stuff.” He said, “Of course, you think these big guys are going to eat slop. There’s no where to eat out here to boot.” The meal passed. I was delighted. I left thinking I’d be back soon. P.S. He was transferred to London soon afterwards and that was that.
But it altered my receptivity to such opportunities. And, when another friend called to invite me to the American Embassy, I accepted but thought, “Do I really want American food in Paris?” Because the last time I’d been there was years before, when every expat in Paris it seemed was invited to the July 4th Garden Party and it was Americans eating American finger food and drinking American drinks and beer. Anyway, we (my wife Colette and I) arrived at the Embassy and after a tough inspection to pass security, even then, long before 9/11, the receptionist called our friend. “Where do you want to eat, she said, the Fast Food place, the American restaurant (where each dish was labeled Virginia ham, Colorado beef, New Jersey eggs, etc) or the elegant French restaurant. Easy choice. And good choice. It too was terrific.
So at that point, even when another friend invited me for dinner at the restaurant run by students at the Cooking School at the Chambre du Commerce, and these were men and women were destined to man humble stations in plain places in France, not at Michelin-starred restos, I accepted. I’ve not had a lot of experience eating at the cooking schools in Paris, but from my meals at the Culinary Institute of America and French Culinary Institute in New York and Luigi Buitoni’s place in Paciano near Perugia, what the students and you fix, is often terrific.
Finally, another cantine, which is of a slightly different stripe. The restaurant of the Ecole Polytechnique is right near the Musee d’Orsay but a million miles away from any tourist. As you know, the School, fondly called the “X,” was founded in 1794 and is one of the Grands Ecoles, which, with the ENA (Ecole Nationale d’Administration), was established to train leaders in France. It has a residence on the rue
de Poitiers, where since 1930, graduates from the hinterland stay when in Paris and it has a restaurant open to the public. And like the big shots at Soc Gen, the political bigwigs at the “X” don’t want shabby food either. I happen to be a crazed follower of French politics and so to sit there in this elegant setting and watch political leaders of the left, far left, far far left and right mingle and appear and disappear into private rooms while eating fine food was heaven. Visitors should be warned that it’s a bit intimidating to walk into what seems like a hotel particulaire, and it is, I suppose, but it’s well worth the speeded-up heart rate.
Moral: The next time a friend calls and asks “Wanna have lunch at my work?” the answer should be instantaneous. Even a visit to an Emerald Restaurant (those cantines serving us folks in the third age, etc), could be a revelation.
My favorite public place is:
Restaurant le Club
Maison des Polytechniciens
12 rue de Poitiers, 7th (Metro: Solferino)
T: 01.49.54.74.74
Closed Weekends
A la Carte 60€
A friend calls: “Wanna have lunch at my work?” Me: “Are you mad? You know how hard I research these places to find the really great but inexpensive French meals while I’m in Paris. No way! Jeez.”
Big mistake.
I used to think that anything but a restaurant meal was to be avoided at all cost, especially in Paris. Oh yah, I remember being fed pretty well at some brokerage firms and the New York Times in New York, or men’s clubs in London, but the idea of sitting down in Paris in a company dining room was not my idea of haute cuisine.
Then a friend invited me to “Soc Gen,” Société Générale, for lunch. I schlepped out to La Defense, murmuring under my breath and sat down, pre-occupied with our conversation and the big-shots around us. After a few bites, however, I found myself muttering “This is pretty good stuff.” He said, “Of course, you think these big guys are going to eat slop. There’s no where to eat out here to boot.” The meal passed. I was delighted. I left thinking I’d be back soon. P.S. He was transferred to London soon afterwards and that was that.
But it altered my receptivity to such opportunities. And, when another friend called to invite me to the American Embassy, I accepted but thought, “Do I really want American food in Paris?” Because the last time I’d been there was years before, when every expat in Paris it seemed was invited to the July 4th Garden Party and it was Americans eating American finger food and drinking American drinks and beer. Anyway, we (my wife Colette and I) arrived at the Embassy and after a tough inspection to pass security, even then, long before 9/11, the receptionist called our friend. “Where do you want to eat, she said, the Fast Food place, the American restaurant (where each dish was labeled Virginia ham, Colorado beef, New Jersey eggs, etc) or the elegant French restaurant. Easy choice. And good choice. It too was terrific.
So at that point, even when another friend invited me for dinner at the restaurant run by students at the Cooking School at the Chambre du Commerce, and these were men and women were destined to man humble stations in plain places in France, not at Michelin-starred restos, I accepted. I’ve not had a lot of experience eating at the cooking schools in Paris, but from my meals at the Culinary Institute of America and French Culinary Institute in New York and Luigi Buitoni’s place in Paciano near Perugia, what the students and you fix, is often terrific.
Finally, another cantine, which is of a slightly different stripe. The restaurant of the Ecole Polytechnique is right near the Musee d’Orsay but a million miles away from any tourist. As you know, the School, fondly called the “X,” was founded in 1794 and is one of the Grands Ecoles, which, with the ENA (Ecole Nationale d’Administration), was established to train leaders in France. It has a residence on the rue 
de Poitiers, where since 1930, graduates from the hinterland stay when in Paris and it has a restaurant open to the public. And like the big shots at Soc Gen, the political bigwigs at the “X” don’t want shabby food either. I happen to be a crazed follower of French politics and so to sit there in this elegant setting and watch political leaders of the left, far left, far far left and right mingle and appear and disappear into private rooms while eating fine food was heaven. Visitors should be warned that it’s a bit intimidating to walk into what seems like a hotel particulaire, and it is, I suppose, but it’s well worth the speeded-up heart rate.
Moral: The next time a friend calls and asks “Wanna have lunch at my work?” the answer should be instantaneous. Even a visit to an Emerald Restaurant (those cantines serving us folks in the third age, etc), could be a revelation.
My favorite public place is:
Restaurant le Club
Maison des Polytechniciens
12 rue de Poitiers, 7th (Metro: Solferino)
T: 01.49.54.74.74
Closed Weekends
A la Carte 60€
